


Unbroken

by fickleminder



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Divergence, Character Study, Galra Keith (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Masochism, Mercy Killing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:13:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8386780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fickleminder/pseuds/fickleminder
Summary: In which the cryo pods can bring back the dead.(Or the one where Keith needs to feel again.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This got a lot more philosophical than expected and I made myself sad writing it. Please note the archive warnings before proceeding.

They’ve always known that the cryo pods worked miracles. Lance was saved from near death when Sendak had set off that explosion during the castle invasion, and healed completely in just a day when it would have taken months back on Earth.

Not long after, the paladins are separated by the compromised wormhole, thrown into worlds unknown with limited resources and only their damaged lions for company. Allura and Coran recover Lance and Pidge first, the two not far from the castle in whatever galaxy it had ended up in. After some quick repair work and major sensor upgrades, they proceed to locate the others.

They find Hunk next, paralyzed neck down with a broken spine on a barren desert planet; then Keith, bleeding out from the hole in his chest where a piece of Red's console had impaled him; and finally Shiro, feverish and delirious with the scratch marks from Haggard's attack pulsing an eerie purple as they slowly suck the life out of him.

The cryo pods work their magic, and after a week of much needed rest, things are as back to normal as they can be. Everyone is reunited and safe, and they take some time to lie low and regroup, replenishing their supplies before planning missions again and rejoining the fight.

Then Pidge gets shot at point blank range.

Their work is done and Hunk is covering their escape from a squadron of Galra fighters, but Shiro doesn't care about the mission, doesn't notice Lance dragging their lions to safety or Keith clearing a path towards the approaching castle. He's too busy fracturing Pidge's ribs performing CPR at the back of Black's cockpit, frantically trying to keep her breathing as the rest of the team rushes them to the infirmary.

They're in the middle of removing her armor when it happens. Her heart stutters once, twice, and then her chest stops rising altogether.

It takes three paladins and a princess to pull Shiro away. He struggles against their trembling hold, screaming, sobbing "no no no Pidge -- _KATIE!"_

Coran doesn't say anything, only steps in to scoop up Pidge's limp body and place it in a cryo pod, gently rearranging her limbs into a more comfortable position. No one dares to ask why, because Pidge is gone, Pidge is _dead_ , but Shiro falls to his knees anyway, hoping, praying.

The cryo pod beeps the next day. Pidge comes out and opens her eyes.

She doesn't get the chance to finish taking her first posthumous breath before finding herself smothered in a group hug, buried in Shiro's chest and shoulders wet with Hunk and Lance's tears and Keith's hand ruffling her hair.

"She’ll be okay," Allura assures them, smiling knowingly as they cling to one another. "You all will."

They don't let go for a long time.

 

* * *

 

Shiro goes next.

In a last ditch effort to take down Voltron's paladins with them, the Galra scientists in the experimentation facility set all their test subjects loose, giving them free reign to maul their creators and everything else in their path to shreds. There's no stopping a bloodthirsty stampede of aliens who have literally lost their minds, driven insane and reduced to feral states during their time in captivity.

Intelligence has been collected and charges have been set, but Shiro and Pidge are cornered and running out of time. To the black paladin, it's the gladiator pits all over again with Pidge's terrified face mirroring her brother's and a pack of wild beasts on the other side. There's only one way out and he knows it; Pidge’s death, however temporary, had nearly broken him and he refuses to let a third Holt slip through his grasp if he can help it.

As the doors threaten to give way, Shiro practically shoves Pidge through the vents in the ceiling. There's no way he can fit in there, he insists, urging her to get out while she still can. He promises to find some cover and meet her back in the castle, seconds before the horde bursts into the room and all hell breaks loose. A stray spies Pidge and chases her into the darkness of the ventilation shafts, preventing her from going back for Shiro until her bayard finally cuts it clean in two.

She reaches her lion just in time to see the place go up in flames.

It's hard to tell how Shiro died. Digging through the wreckage, they unearth his Galran arm first, followed by whatever's left of the roasted body attached to it. Entombed in rubble, his skin is marred by bloody scratches cauterized by the fire and littered with lingering teeth marks at the edges where chunks of flesh had been torn away. It's also possible that the explosion had gotten him or that the resulting debris had crushed him to death, but by some miracle Shiro's mutilated body is still intact, albeit almost unrecognizable if not for his burnt armor.

Hunk throws up at the sight.

When Shiro emerges from a cryo pod four days later, he falls into Allura's shaking arms and opens his eyes as Pidge latches onto his midsection like a koala. To the side, Coran gives a teary sniff while a bawling Hunk all but flings himself over them, very nearly knocking the group over.

"I'm glad Shiro's okay," Lance laughs weakly, bumping shoulders with Keith as they wait their turn to welcome their leader back.

Scrubbing his eyes dry, Keith nods quietly and takes Lance's weight without complaint when the other paladin leans against him. It's just as well, because Keith thinks his own legs might give out soon under the sheer amount of relief pressing down on him.

"That horde was --" Lance pauses, and Keith can feel him shudder. "Felt like we were in the middle of a zombie movie back there."

Keith watches Shiro breathe, sees him murmuring to his worried friends as he melts into their embrace, and he can't find it in himself to disagree.

 

* * *

 

They all become a little more reckless after that. Granted, they err on the side of caution at first, because the images of Pidge's broken body and Shiro's charred corpse haunt their collective nightmares for weeks to come. Pidge and Shiro don't talk about it, and no one asks.

But now they know.

They’re teenagers fighting in a war they never asked to be part of, and it seems as though the higher powers are giving them an unlimited number of lives in return. They are the universe's only hope after all, and being ten thousand years late to the fight has left them at quite the disadvantage.

There are restrictions, of course. The cryo pods can’t heal dismemberment (sorry Shiro); neither can they revive someone who passed from natural causes or has been dead for several days; not to mention having all five paladins incapacitated at the same time won’t be doing Voltron any favors.

And it’s not like they actively try to test the limits of the cryo pods either. Mere humans have no right to abuse their powers nor take them for granted, and the worried frown on Allura’s face never fails to appear whenever she finds her paladins on the other side of the glass capsules.

Nevertheless, given that magical cure for all, like something right out of a fairytale, it provides them the leeway, an additional safety net to take that extra risk during missions. They start to win more battles, liberate planets more effectively, and finally, _finally_ see some progress in their war against Zarkon.

Saving the universe is and always will be their primary goal, but so is making it back to the Castle of Lions in one piece, now.

 

* * *

 

"Fuck!"

"Language!"

Keith rolls his eyes and slashes at the last sentry in front of him with his bayard, watching it fall to his feet with a satisfying thud. Serves it right for getting in a lucky shot. He presses his free hand against his waist, where the throbbing wound has already begun to bleed through his undersuit.

"Keith, you with me?"

"Still alive, Shiro." He grunts into his communicator. His side hurts like a bitch, but at least he can still walk. "East wing is secure. I'm heading towards your location now."

"Copy that."

He takes a step forward before doubling over with a gasp, a spike of pain abruptly crashing through him. Cursing mentally, Keith grits his teeth and reminds himself to breathe. The process of tuning out his injuries has gotten easier over time. It's all mind over matter, as the saying goes, plus swearing also helps, much to Shiro's chagrin. His wound won't kill him, not yet. He has roughly half an hour before bleeding out and falling unconscious, which is more than enough time to finish the mission and return to the castle.

 _One foot in front of the other_ , he tells himself, straightening back up before making his way towards the next room, a steady trickle of red between his fingers. _Just keep moving, keep breathing, and don't. Die._

 

* * *

 

For the record, they’ve each died at least twice now. No one really keeps count because unlike the friendly competitions to see who can shoot down the most Galra ships with their lion ("without the cloaking device Pidge, stop _cheating!"_ Lance complains), death isn't something to be taken lightly. It isn't a game, yet at the same time it is, and with infinite lives they can keep on playing for years.

Between them all, they’ve covered quite a few bases as well. Bludgeoning, drowning, electrocution, suffocation, snapped necks... Instant deaths are the unspoken preferences, quick and clean. Those that drag their current lives out, leaving them clinging to the vestiges of consciousness as liquid rushes into their lungs, as fire licks at their flesh, as crimson spills out of the holes in their bodies -- Those are the worst. The cryo pods spit them out good as new, but the phantom echoes of the experience don't fade as easily as the scars.

Don't get them wrong, they’re not invincible, not quite. They still feel pain when fighting, feel the bruises blooming on their skins and the white hot energy scorching their insides, but it has become fleeting, dialed down with the focus of completing the mission and making it back to the castle. They soldier through it, they _have_ to. Hunk doesn't throw up as often anymore, and Keith expands his vocabulary of alien expletives, much to Shiro and Allura's joint exasperation.

It's not so bad when they've got one another to rely on. Forming Voltron not only connects their minds together, it also allows them to share physical burdens, support their weakest link, work as a team and move as one. (Like the time Hunk was nursing a broken leg when they combined, leaving Voltron with an awkward limp and an embarrassing penguin gait. Coran has videos.)

Meditation is a core part of their training now. They learn to be aware of their bodies, to control when to feel (or _not_ feel), to tune out pain like flipping a switch, simple as that. The dissociation feels unnatural at first, especially to Keith. He doesn't like the way it numbs his mind, having to go against that natural intuition built into his body. It takes a while before the process becomes automatic and he stops feeling pain altogether. It doesn’t mean anything to him, not anymore.

They start to look at things quantitatively too, like how many shots their armor can endure before the next one is fatal, or how high a drop they can fall while still being able to walk it off. Calculated risks take on a more literal meaning and they come in handy during battles, allowing them to keep going when they _know_ they can.

It's like keeping track of your hit points, Lance once describes it.

Keith doesn't get the reference, and that particular meditation session quickly derails into a crash course on video games (and Pokémon) before Allura interrupts them for their scheduled training against the gladiator robots.

 

* * *

 

Lance looks dead.

Keith finds him at the bottom of a cliff with the corpse of a Galra-manufactured alien hybrid lying next to him. He's sprawled on the ground like a rag doll, a splatter of blood on his visor, his right elbow bent the wrong way and his left shin bone poking through his leg under his cracked armor. It's a grotesque sight, but at least his limbs are more or less intact, if not somewhat crooked. Way to take one for the team.

It isn't until when Keith tries to pick him up that Lance's eyes fly open and he screams.

"Shit -- Lance, calm down, it's me! Stop yelling you idiot, _breathe!"_

Gasping frantically like a fish out of water, Lance struggles to suck air into his punctured lungs. A result of broken ribs, Keith is willing to bet.

"That's right, remember what Coran taught us? Just take deep breaths and hold still, okay? I'm going to carry you back to Red." Keith barely touches him before Lance starts screaming again.

 _"Don't!"_ He sobs, pupils dilated and tears flowing freely down his bruised face. "It hurts, it _hurts_ \-- Make it _stop!"_

"I'm trying!" Keith shouts back in frustration. "You have to let me get you to --"

Lance's left hand scrabbles blindly at his side until it lands on his bayard. He thrusts it in Keith's direction. "P-please! Just _make it STOP!"_

Keith's own bayard clatters to the ground. A jumble of emotions rages within him as the implication behind Lance's pleas sinks in; shock, disbelief, horror, and then anger finally comes out on top. _"What the fuck?!"_ He screeches, clenching his fists in a crude attempt to stop himself from slapping his fellow paladin because "what is _wrong_ with you? How can you -- You can't just ask me to - to _end_ you like that!"

Mercy killing has never crossed his mind before. Killing enemy soldiers without remorse or hesitation, yes, but not deliberately killing for the sake of putting someone out of their misery. It'll be doing Lance a favor, won't it? No one in the team has ever gotten hurt so badly that the pain was too much to bear, and Lance has even resorted to begging now, not a shred of pride or his usual cockiness left in him. Where's the shame in wanting to take the easy way out? Anyone in Lance's position would probably do the same.

But here's the thing: not everyone has access to cryo pods. Not everyone can breathe again after shattering all their bones and letting internal bleeding finish them off. The very fact that Keith knows none of it matters anyway once they get back to the castle, that Lance can ask for death so easily --

What does pain even mean to them anymore? Excruciating agony is a convenient excuse to press the reset button when one exists, but technically you’re not supposed to come back to life once you’re dead. There's a certain sense of finality when it comes to death and that's the way it works, that's the way it _should_ work. The cryo pods have changed them, Keith realizes too late, made them indifferent to what it means to be alive, to _feel._

"Shut up," he growls, shaking his head as he prepares to move Lance again. "Just _shut up!_ Since when were you such a coward anyway?" Keith takes Lance's vicious swearing and 'fuck you mullet head's in stride, throwing back a few insults for good measure, berating him for being stupid enough to try and break Shiro's record when it comes to surviving falls. (Which he did, in case anyone asks.)

In the end, Lance doesn't die, not on Keith's watch. He's long stopped crying by the time they put him in a cryo pod, and even though Keith couldn't look him in the eye the entire trip back, he's there to help Lance out when he finally emerges from the fog. The blue paladin says nothing when Keith squeezes his hand in apology, but Keith tells himself he isn't imagining the way Lance returns the silent gesture.

 

* * *

 

Hunk stops throwing up.

Keith doesn't curse anymore.

 

* * *

 

Here are a few statistics, courtesy of Pidge:

  * Fatal fall heights are subject to the planet's gravity; assuming Earth standards, the median figure is 15 meters, 20 at most
  * It only takes 0.1-0.2 amperes for an electric current to be lethal, not that anyone knows how much an ampere is just by looking at it (except maybe Hunk)
  * Their armor can withstand up to 5 shots from a standard Galra blaster, and even if it isn't penetrated they can still get burns up to 3rd degree, 4th if they're unlucky
  * Hypothermia kills within the hour, minutes if they get hit with cold shock
  * Poisoning depends on the kind of toxin; expiration times and pain levels vary accordingly
  * Bleeding out takes less than a minute if any of the major arteries are hit
  * Humans can hold their breaths for about 40 seconds; drowning itself takes roughly 3-4 minutes
  * Getting shot or stabbed is obvious: in the head or through the heart and it's goodnight; anywhere else and it's debatable whether to leave the bullet or blade in



The point is, they know how much damage they can take before someone has to haul their sorry asses back to the cryo pods for round two. They know their limits, but now Keith thinks they should never let it go that far in the first place.

Because somehow, somewhere along the line, 'stay alive' has become 'don't die'. It's not the same when your heart can stop beating and you can still breathe again days later. Lights out doesn't mean game over anymore, it means wait to respawn while inconveniencing your teammates because how are they supposed to form Voltron now?

It keeps Keith up at night, the fact that Lance's tormented sobs had fueled his resolve to go against the blue paladin's wishes. Acting on his revelations at Lance's expense had been incredibly selfish, and 'sadistic bastard' was only one of the many colorful insults Lance had hurled at him in Red's cockpit.

On that note, what about the lions? Their pilots can't afford to be too careless with them; they have some degree of sentience and they feel pain too, pain which their paladins can't shoulder on their behalf. If not for them, Keith thinks their little coping strategies would have eradicated their sense of empathy a long time ago. Their lions protect them, and it's only fair that they return the favor, with or without the luxury of cryo pods for Gundam-sized mechanical felines, right?

Keith loses sleep over this, and more often than not he ends up going round after round beating out his frustrations in the training deck, performing simulation after simulation until Lance forcibly switches it off and drags him back to his room. The blue paladin threatens to get Hunk to lie on him if it'll make him stay still and sits guard at the foot of Keith's door, adamantly refusing to leave until he goes to bed. Keith can't tell if he should be touched by his concern or annoyed by his persistence, but eventually he decides to humor Lance and feign sleep, letting the thoughts run around in his head instead.

He wonders if the cryo pods can cure madness too.

(Probably not.)

 

* * *

 

"Keith! Are you -- Shit."

"Lance?"

"It's me buddy, I've got you, just hang on. Guys, he's over here! Gimme some cover while I get him to Blue!"

"Heh, who's cradling w-who now, cargo pilot?"

"Shut your quiznak, mullet head! Dios mio, there's so much blood..."

"You look s-surprised. Why'd you think I'm the r-red paladin?"

"Well you look like an accident, asshole! And that wasn't funny by the way, you have a terrible sense of humor!"

"'Scuse you..."

"I swear, one more lousy joke and I'll -- Oh no, nononono you don't! I take it back, talk shit to me."

"Y'bedside manner s'cks..."

"Good, that's great! Just keep your eyes open and stay with me, okay?"

"..."

"Keith?"

 

* * *

 

It isn't as though he hasn't tried to talk to the others about it either.

Shiro goes quiet when he brings it up. He can sympathize, but there isn't much he can do about it, not when the weight of the universe on his shoulders leaves him with little choice but to focus on keeping his team functional to fight another day. He does his best to make sure no one dies on a mission though, because not even the cryo pods can heal the memories of a year in Galra captivity, watching fellow prisoners get killed and stay dead.

Pidge rattles off more figures for him since numbers don't lie and besides, isn't it more important to work on lowering the chances of biting the dust in battle? There's no arguing with that, especially not when her statistics have significantly boosted their success rates and reduced unnecessary deaths during operations.

Hunk tries not to think about it. The subjects of death and gore make him squeamish, and Keith loathes to consider the effects of war on such a gentle soul as his. If ignoring them altogether by busying himself with engineering projects is his way of coping, then so be it. (He stress cooks too, but no one's complaining about that.)

Lance understands, somewhat. Keith suspects that dying in his arms had affected him more than he lets on, even though the fact remains that death no longer matters to them anymore. It's not that big of a deal, Lance thinks, and he still doesn't get why Keith is so worked up about dying when the cryo pods can easily bounce them back from the afterlife (or lack thereof). But at the very least, he realizes how it hadn't been right of him to ask Keith to kill him all those weeks ago, and Keith in turn apologizes properly for leaving him in pain.

He doesn't dare to broach the issue to Allura or Coran. It simply won't do to have them think him ungrateful for his second chances at life, after all.

 

* * *

 

"Are you crazy?! What did you do that for?"

Lance is being louder than usual, and Keith guesses that he's gone half-deaf from the explosions around them. Surely it's the concussion making him imagine the fierce worry etched onto Lance's face, the blue paladin looking at him with the most fearful expression he's ever seen.

"Stupid idiot," Lance grumbles, an undercurrent of panic in his voice as he hauls Keith further behind an outcropping of rocks, one hand sniping off any drones that try to follow them. "You're gonna be the death of me."

Keith has the decency to wince. The irony isn't lost on him; for all his grievances about taking death lightly, he's stooped to using himself as a human shield for his teammates even when he knows the damage they would have sustained won't be fatal. He doesn't have to, in the grand scheme of things, but the desperation to be reacquainted with pain has driven him to resort to drastic measures. Needless to say, no one is particularly happy about his recent streak of recklessness on the battlefield. Space Dad has enough white hair on his head as it is.

The sizeable dent in Keith's helmet does little to assuage Lance's fretting. He pries it off gingerly and sifts gentle fingers through the blood-matted hair he makes fun of so often, pulling away with a whispered apology when Keith hisses sharply. There had been an audible crack ringing through the comms when Keith had tackled him out of the blast radius of an explosive too close for comfort, hitting his head on the way down.

"I'm fine," Keith insists, swatting his hands away. "Let's go, we gotta get back out there and help the others."

"Oh yeah? Go on and stand up then."

And of course Keith doesn't back down from the challenge, but Lance's arms are already set to catch him the second he collapses halfway, his legs finally giving out because fighting with busted kneecaps had been such a brilliant idea. Lance shakes his head in exasperation, peering out from behind their cover before scooping Keith up bridal style.

"Suck it up, samurai." He smirks at Keith's indignant splutters. "I mean it's not like it's the first time I've carried you like this."

"The _hell_ , Lance?! When did --"

"You wouldn't remember it."

The teasing in Lance's tone is all but gone as he looks away pointedly, seemingly to keep an eye on their surroundings while he navigates them towards safety. The set of his jaw says otherwise though, and for a brief moment Keith thinks that's the end of the discussion, up until Lance ducks inside Blue's force field and sets him down.

"Listen, I know it doesn't matter in the end, but..." The uncharacteristically solemn expression on Lance's face is unnerving. Keith is almost tempted to poke at the ticklish spot on the blue paladin's ribs just to break the tension, but something tells him to hear Lance out first, so he waits.

He doesn't expect the feather-light brush of lips against his temple, nor the way Lance tightens his hold on him.

"I thought I was going to lose you again," Lance admits, the barest tremble in his voice. "I know what you're trying to do, but don't throw yourself away so carelessly like that. You nearly gave me a heart attack, you know?"

Keith finds it hard to swallow all of a sudden. "Lance, I --"

"Promise me you won't do it again." Now Lance is glaring at him, the familiar heated look comforting yet making him feel a twinge of guilt at the same time. "Promise me you'll be more careful."

It's not a promise Keith is confident he can keep, but if Lance had been scared to the point of personally making sure his rival doesn't pull any further ahead in their not-competition of death tallies, then maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for them.

Perhaps those sleepless nights aren't so meaningless after all.

"I promise."

 

* * *

 

It isn't even Keith's fault this time. Well, in some twisted way it sort of is, but that doesn't make Shiro any less guilty after the red paladin comes out of the cryo pod.

Their latest mission had involved several druids and even more nasty spells, one of which had hit Keith dead on while he was keeping Pidge's back clear of sentries. Aside from a rough tumble to the ground, there didn't appear to be any lingering side effects of whatever hex the druids had conjured up this time. Seeing as no other major injuries were sustained in battle, Keith doesn't go into a cryo pod after they return to the castle.

Hours later, shit hits the fan during a sparring session.

The transformation starts with a fire in his torso, emanating from his core and flaring outwards like a supernova. Keith feels like he's burning from the inside out, and chokes on air in the middle of throwing a volley of punches, his body suddenly racked with spasms as though someone had sent an electric current through it. His eyes widen at the sight of purple claws flying towards a blank-faced Shiro, and that's the last thing he remembers before everything goes dark.

In hindsight, Keith should have realized Shiro was no longer in the training deck the moment the druids' spell triggered his dormant Galra genes. Everyone is pretty tight-lipped about what happened, but under relentless pressure from Keith's yellow-eyed glare, Coran finally lets slip that he _might_ have had gotten his throat slashed and a sizzling hole punched through his chest.

Talk about instant death from friendly fire.

Keith's alien heritage draws mixed responses from the team, but barring Shiro's knee-jerk reaction (which he doesn't stop apologizing for no matter how many times Keith forgives him), no one shows any real hostility. Although the others are hesitant and Allura and Coran are especially wary at first, they can tell Keith is just as shocked as they are. Growing up on Earth, he's never known his father and he only has faint memories of his mother before the fire snatched her away. It takes a few weeks of high tension and several unsuccessful Voltron formations to get used to the half-Galra in their midst, but ultimately Keith is still Keith, their friend, brother, and fellow paladin.

There are times when Keith thinks he would have preferred it if they had tried to kill him instead. No one would want to bring him back then, and he's just a _little_ disappointed when they eventually accept him with open arms.

Lance won't have it though. It's almost like he can sense Keith's thoughts, and puts in extra effort to seek him out on the days they plague him, just to make sure Keith isn't brooding in self-imposed exile again. If staying glued to his side and hunkering down next to him on the floor is what it takes to reassure Keith that he doesn't have to suffer alone, then Lance is more than willing to endure the occasional elbow to his ribs and a sore neck from sleeping against the wall.

(And when Keith reaches out to grab his hand and hold it through the night, Lance considers them even.)

 

* * *

 

Call Keith a masochist, but hear him out first.

Pain teaches you to survive: a black eye is what older kids in the foster home think of tattletales; sprained wrists are how Garrison cadets try to knock prodigy pilots down a peg or two in an empty hallway (note the keyword: _try_ ); hunger pangs mean watch your food and water supplies when living alone in a desert shack; dislocated shoulders say not to underestimate the terrain unless you want to end up crashing your hover bike into a canyon.

So if you know that you can always come back to life, that you can’t die, that _they_ won’t _let_ you die, then what does pain even mean anymore?

It scares him, becoming desensitized to the instinct that keeps him alive. He's long stopped feeling it altogether, that fear of dying, that having to brace for impact. They don’t matter in the end after all, not when a dreamless nap in a cryo pod fixes everything. It’s like closing your eyes and waking up to start the day all over again, and with little in space to mark the passage of time, it certainly feels like it.

This numbness, this apathy towards the fragility of the human body -- It’s unnatural and it’s wrong and Keith doesn’t want to break his promise to Lance but he thinks he will _hurt_ himself if it will help him feel again. He’s always been reckless, following his gut and taking opportunities when they present themselves despite the risks, charging headfirst into dangerous situations and pushing his limits constantly, but the point isn't to feel pain. It's to know that he’s still alive, the physical reminder to reconcile with the fact that he's still in control, that it's his body, his rules, and only _he_ decides when it gives out.

Keith's fist glances off the punching bag and hits the wall behind instead, sending a sharp jolt shooting up his arm. It's like rousing the nerves in a sleeping limb, having to shake off the pins and needles by jarring them further. The sensation fades faster than he likes, so he does it again, and again, and again.

This is how Lance finds him, on the training deck in the middle of the night, pounding bloody knuckles into metal paneling. At this point he knows to let Keith tire himself out before attempting any sort of intervention, and resigns himself to waiting at the door. He had a feeling Keith wasn't too happy about getting stuck with cleaning duty for the cryo pods earlier that day. Something about erasing all traces of blood and ash from the pristine white capsules just gets to him, not that Lance will pretend to understand.

Despite Keith's new purple features (and the somewhat creepy fact that the sclera of his eyes are now a complete demonic shade of yellow, no irises or pupils left), he isn't as hard to read as most might think. If the mindless painting of the wall red isn't already a dead giveaway, Keith's agitation is clear from the furrow of his brows and the snarl in his lips, his claws elongated more so than in an actual battle, which is saying something in itself. Lance would liken his slightly puffed up fur to a cat that's getting ready for a fight, but he wants to keep all his limbs intact, thank you very much.

"You done, pretty boy?" Lance finally asks after what feels like hours, seeing Keith pant quietly as his arms hang limply at his sides, staring at the coppery smudges on the wall. He makes a mental note to clean them up the next day before anyone else comes in.

Keith only huffs at the affectionate pet name, all fight drained out of his body, and allows Lance to lead him back to his room. They make a quick stop at the showers first, where the waters run pink as Lance washes his hands clean before dabbing them dry with a towel.

Sitting the red paladin down at the edge of his bed, Lance breaks the companionable silence with a light poke to his cheek. "I don't know what goes on in that thick skull of yours, but you think too much."

"At least I think."

"Hey, I resent that!"

There isn't any real heat in Lance's retort, and Keith's lips curl in amusement. Wordlessly, he watches as Lance pulls out a first aid kit and applies some translucent Altean salve to his injuries. It's a process Keith has gone through countless times on his own, but having Lance do it has its benefits, namely the gentle press of soft lips against his sore knuckles after they've been bandaged up, the bloom of warmth washing over the sting of antiseptic. It's a selfish thought, but Lance's kisses really aren't motivating him to cut back the temperamental fits at all.

"Get some rest, okay?" Lance maneuvers them onto the bed and under the covers, laying Keith's head atop his chest before reaching up to tangle fingers through dark hair and rub behind drooping Galran ears. As much as he loves to tease Keith about his abominable mullet, he's glad it's one of the features he kept after his transformation, a familiar reminder that he's still the same guy even with the face of the enemy.

It takes everything in Keith not to purr at the soothing contact. Tucked in snugly, cocooned in warmth, he counts Lance's heartbeats to sleep.

 

* * *

 

After the utter disaster that had resulted in the wormhole fiasco, it has become an unspoken rule that Allura no longer be allowed to pose as a Galra soldier for infiltration missions. Needless to say she doesn't appreciate being coddled like that, but the princess acquiesces in Shiro and Coran's decision only because Keith can take her place instead.

In a cruel twist of fate, that's exactly what happens.

"They knew we were coming!" Pidge's shrieks can be heard over the comms, her tone steadily rising in pitch. "How the _fuck_ did they know we were coming?!"

"Doesn't matter! Grab Lance and Keith and get out of there!"

The very fact that Shiro does not call her out on the f-word is a testament to the direness of their situation. Their target had been one of Zarkon's quintessence harvesting facilities at the edge of a secluded galaxy. According to intel, it wasn't very heavily guarded and should have been pretty easy to sabotage, but even with all the progress they've made disrupting Zarkon's supply chains, they should have known better than to be complacent.

Hunk and Shiro were in their lions on standby while Pidge, Lance and Keith snuck into the facility with Green's cloaking device. Keith was to impersonate his way to the control room and open the doors, allowing Pidge to hack their systems and plant a virus with Lance covering her and causing some damage along the way. There was nothing to suggest the presence of hidden Galra ships lying in wait just out of orbit, biding their time until their commander issued a single order:

Attack.

The castle is hit first, taking heavy fire to draw Hunk and Shiro back. Then the feeds Keith is monitoring get cut off, and though he thinks the blank screens are Pidge's doing at first, the idea is quickly thrown out the metaphorical window when their comms go down and he's ambushed by a patrol waiting for him outside. Pidge barely manages to boot their systems up again and patch a distress signal through before helping Lance take down the swarm of guards converging on their location.

"Keith, time to go! Meet us in the hanger!" Lance yells into his headset as he guns down the few remaining sentries. There's no response, but Keith's heavy breathing is a clear sign that he's busy fending off his own welcoming committee. Lance turns around and makes to provide backup, but is halted by Allura's frantic voice in his ear.

"Paladins! There's a fleet of battleships closing in on the facility. We're too far away and there’re at least six ion cannons preventing us from intercepting them, so you'll have to clear out before you're surrounded!"

Lance's string of curses is broken by Pidge grabbing his elbow. "Green and I will buy you as much time as we can," she says, her face scrunched up with grim determination. "You go find Keith."

"Thanks Pidgeon. Be careful!"

Not ten seconds after they part ways, the alarms go off.

"Quiznak!" Lance doubles his speed, bolting down hallways at random. Whatever the Galra had done to disable their comms, it had also screwed up their navigational systems. "Keith, where are you? I'm running blind here!"

"C-control room," Keith is heard panting, the muffled sounds of guards pounding on the door in the background. He's been cornered, trapped too deep inside. "The whole place is going on lockdown, Lance. Leave while you still can!"

"Not without you! I'm getting us both out of here!"

Fingers flying across the main console, Keith struggles to regain control of the facility. He can access the weapons systems to clear a path for Pidge, but even then it's one lion against an entire fleet. There's no way she can possibly override the lockdown and pilot at the same time. It won't be long before she's overwhelmed, and given that Galra soldiers are currently flooding the hallways, he knows by the time he slashes his way through to Lance, their window of escape will be closed.

"Keith!"

"I see you. Take the second hallway on your left."

The mission is a failure. They won't make it out without losing a paladin, but damn him if he doesn't ensure Lance and Pidge have a fighting chance of survival.

"Next right, then left."

"You sure, mullet? Feels like I'm going in the opposite direction."

"It's a shortcut. Shut up and trust me."

He leaves a message for Pidge, intending to send it once Lance is out. She'll know what to do then. Losing family never gets any easier, but it's not like he's giving her a say in the matter. Lance is almost there anyway.

"Hurry up! I can't hold them off much longer!" Pidge yells at them, grunting when Green take a hit to the side.

"I'm here!" Lance finally reaches the last set of doors, screeching to a stop in front of them. Despite having to dispatch several guards along the way, the area is suspiciously empty. It occurs to him to ask why Keith couldn't save them some distance and meet him halfway, but then the doors are sliding open for him. Lance doesn't waste any more precious time and charges inside, only to find himself in an empty cargo bay. "Wait, this isn't --"

Keith can pinpoint the exact moment realization sinks in, and shuts the doors behind Lance before he can even think about turning back.

"Nonono _don’t --"_

He doesn’t even wait for Lance to seal his helmet and disengages the air lock the second the doors slam shut. Lance’s protests dissolve into screams as he’s sucked into the inky void of space, and déjà vu hits the red paladin like a knife to the ribs, twisting with the knowledge that this time he had allowed it to happen, that he had _deliberately_ caused it to happen.

An actual stab wound would probably hurt less, Keith thinks, though he can’t say for sure anymore. He releases the breath he’s holding as the green lion swoops in to rescue Lance, the two white blips on the monitor merging into one. His entire frame sags with relief when they manage to break past the line of Galra ships, and only then does he close his eyes and wait.

Despite himself, Keith begins to smile. Lance and the others are safe, and Voltron remains out of Zarkon’s reach, so the universe can still be saved. The lions are irreplaceable, but the same doesn’t necessarily apply to their paladins. Shiro and Zarkon are living proof of that.

He’s made his choice and he's prepared now, ironically without the guarantee of a cryo pod, knowing what’s to come and ready to face it head on. The wild pounding of his heart, the thrill from the battle, the adrenaline in his veins; they’re all slowly seeping out of him in the wake of the inevitable aftermath, but he relishes the way they leave his body sore and his muscles aching, tangible promises of more of the pain that he’s so longed for, that he will be intimately familiar with for the unforeseeable future.

His chest buzzes with anticipation, and Keith laughs when he feels the cold muzzle of a laser gun pressing against his head.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think, and hit me up on tumblr @ fickleminder if you wanna chat :)


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